She saw her opportunity, and answered promptly: "Yes, I will call on him immediately,"—here she turned towards Ruth,—"if Miss Devlin and yourself will go with me."
"Nonsense," interposed Mr. Devlin. "Besides, the cage will only hold two easily. Anyhow, it's absurd."
"Why is it absurd? Is there any danger?" queried Mrs. Falchion.
"Not unless there's an idiot at the machinery."
"I should expect you to manage it," she persisted.
"But no woman has ever done it."
"I will make the record." And, turning to Ruth: "You are not afraid?"
"No, I am not afraid," said the girl bravely, though she acknowledged to me afterwards that while she was not afraid of anything where her own skill was called in question, such as mountain-climbing, or even puma- hunting, she did not joyfully anticipate swinging between heaven and earth on that incline. "I will go," she added, "if my father will let me. . . . May I?" she continued, turning to him.
Perhaps something of the father's pride came up in him, perhaps he had just got some suspicion that between his daughter and Mrs. Falchion there was a subterranean rivalry. However it was, he gave a quick, quizzical look at both of them, then glanced at Roscoe, and said: "I'll make no objections, if Ruth would like to introduce you to Phil. And, as Mrs. Falchion suggested, I'll 'turn the crank.'"
I could see that Roscoe had a bad moment. But presently he appeared to me perfectly willing that Ruth should go. Maybe he was as keen that she should not appear at a disadvantage beside Mrs. Falchion as was her father.